perchance to dream
by displayheartcode
Summary: Harry and Ginny have fun with the Patented Daydream Charms. [Incognito Elf for the Harry and Ginny Discord, for Annerb!]


**a/n**: Annerb asked for 'any trope is love: body swap, accidental telepathy, locked in a closet, just being turned on by each other being competent or kick ass. Anything will be lovely, thank you!'

Well, here we go. When Dusk emailed me about the results, I was all sure, let's commit major anxiety by writing a really weird Secret Santa fic for a big name Harry/Ginny writer.

**Disclaimer**: Ha, ha, no.  
**Title**: perchance to dream  
**Word** **Count**: 2K  
**Summary**: Harry and Ginny have fun with the Patented Daydream Charms. [Incognito Elf for the Harry and Ginny Discord, for Annerb!]

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**Welcome to the Weasley Wizards' Wheezes' Patented Daydream Charm Experience. Please read the listed warnings before using.***

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**i. A Rogue at High Seas**

A mermaid was brushing her long red hair on the rocks. Her green scales shimmered with verdigris in the sun.

"My ship crashed during the storm." Harry staggered to his feet. Saltwater stung his eyes and there was the overwhelming taste of sugar in his mouth. He felt the magic form the necessary dialogue as the world shifted into sharper focus. Everything about his surroundings was becoming more real – the hot sun against his skin, the coarse sand slipping under his bare feet.

He bent over and shook the sand out from a discarded boot. Even the leather felt waterlogged.

_Amazing_. He was never going to admit it to George and Ron, but the spellwork on these daydream charms was incredibly detailed.

Ginny smiled coyly from over her bare shoulder. She looked him over slowly, clearly liking the way Harry's flimsy shirt was translucent from being dragged out of the ocean. "Are you a pirate? They say a fearsome pirate captain roams the high seas."

"I could be." Nothing was stopping the ridiculous grin from spreading on his face.

"Then it'll depend on what you can offer me since you need my help." Bronze scales glittered alongside Ginny's arms. She flicked her smooth tail against the rock and set the comb-shaped shell down. She lowered herself from the rock, and in a hazy shimmer of sunlight, her tail became familiar legs, and the gills on her neck closed into pale lines. She was suddenly dressed in a green shift that barely reached her knees. "What say you, Captain Potter?"

Harry had several ideas in mind.

But then he saw an orange tentacle peak from under the water. Then it was three tentacles. Now seven. Two large eyes and a bulbous head rose above the water. It was easily twice as large as the Giant Squid from Hogwarts and lacked all of the usual warmth and friendliness with its blood-red eyes and pointed

spikes attached to the suckers on the tentacles. It made a clicking sound as it landed on the beach, moving with a terrifying swiftness that went beyond the usual laws of nature.

"Which romantic experience did you pick?" Ginny asked, her voice high and thin. "Uh," said Harry. The sugary taste of the charm turned sour in his mouth.

**ii. Starry Night**

There was something strange about being sixteen again and wearing his old Hogwarts uniform. They sat at the top of the Astronomy Tower the whole sky opened above them in a dizzying array of shooting stars and ever-moving constellations in halos of unearthly light.

Harry never knew the night sky could be so beautiful. If he had known, then maybe Astronomy Class wouldn't have been so dull.

Ginny kissed the side of his neck. Her hair tickled his skin. "This brings back some fun memories."

"I was thinking the same thing." Unlike the actual Astronomy Tower, this dream version had the floor perfectly clean of owl droppings and candle wax, the bronze telescope was shinned to perfection, and there wasn't any of that pesky draft that usually ruined the mood. This was the tower everyone fantasized about when taking their date on a secret rendezvous. At least, this was what everyone imagined before being caught by Filch or their head of the house.

Ginny loosened the red-and-gold striped tie at Harry's throat and pushed his robes off his shoulders. She settled herself in his lap, and he got his hands comfortable under her shirt. This was a fantasy he could easily go along with.

"You know what else this reminds me of?" "Hmm. How about you show me?"

Before they could continue, Harry heard the tell-tale steps of Mrs. Norris making her way up the nearby stairwell.

"You have got to be kidding me," he murmured against Ginny's mouth. He regretfully pulled back as they heard Filch's distinctive raspy voice echo from the stairwell.

"Are those students out of bounds? After curfew?"

**iii. Gothic Delights**

A storm raged outside the manor. Flashes of lightning filled the corridor, illuminating Ginny in her silken, nightdress. She shivered under his gaze, but her brown eyes were flinty with determination as she braved the rumored monster in the manor.

"What are you, foul creature?" Light from the torches flickered across her face. Her nightdress pooled to the stone floor, revealing a lace-edged nightgown with a plunging front and a throat bare for him to

touch. Her hair looked like fire in the dim hallway. With the hem of her gown dragging behind her and a blush staining her cheeks, she placed a hand to his cold heart. It would not beat, even for her.

Harry sighed. He tried not to roll his eyes. "A vampire," he said tonelessly.

"Oh, take me, you Lord of Shadows." Ginny threw herself against his chest and swooned, well, she tried to because he wasn't paying attention. She waited.

Harry patted down the sides of his fangs, testing the edges of them to see if they were as sharp as they looked, ignoring how the charm wanted him to be brooding over the innocent maiden. "These feel impractical."

"Shut up, Harry, and seduce me already." She checked over her shoulders. "Before something chases after us again."

"Vampires aren't that special," he complained. "I've died and come back to life. I have a brooding personality! And why do these things always have me in tight trousers?"

**iv. The Henry Porter Experience****

Harry was a funhouse mirror of himself. The hair was more brown than black, his skin a shade too pale, his chin smaller with the beginning of a mottled beard that had a touch of grey. Hazel eyes blinked from behind rectangular glasses. He looked at his reflection again in the mirrored ceiling and pushed back his fringe to see a lopsided version of his infamous scar.

His new Auror uniform would never pass inspection. The black trousers were sticking to his legs like a second skin. His coat tailored to fit close to his torso and opened low enough to show a thin white work shirt with too many buttons undone. Utterly nothing practical whatsoever. Harry ran his hands alongside the belt and found an interesting version of his cuffs. He unclipped them and gave then an experimental twirl around his fingers.

"This is getting ridiculous." As if this hadn't been ridiculous enough. He was still emotionally recovering from the angry villagers that had chased him and Ginny across the moon-bleached moors.

"I think I like this one the best," said Ginny. She propped her chin with her hands, lounging on the large bed with a look of delight. She was wearing a scarlet shirt with the yellow silhouette of a lion on the front. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail.

"Wouldn't you prefer the real thing?" he pleaded.

"You had no complaints about the gills and fishtail, Potter." She motioned for him to do a spin for her. "Now strip. It's my turn for some fun."

Harry made of show of checking a nonexistent watch on his wrist. "We might have to make this quick if the previous attempts are trying to tell us something."

**v. A Sweet Chance**

There were several things Harry was happy about this time.

One was that the magic had dressed him in something more realistic, his standard worn jeans and the plaid shirt with the sleeves wrinkled from being pushed up to his elbows. No more leather trousers or billowy white shirts, just breathable denim.

The second was the pastries.

They were behind the display and luring him closer with the promise of chocolate-glazed eclairs and pastries studded with crushed walnuts and powdered sugar. The scent of melted butter filled the air, and Harry felt incredibly grateful. After the admittedly fun time with the Henry Porter Experience before the knock-off version of Voldemort had arrived, he felt like his future in-laws' were truly putting their creativity to the test.

It was as if someone had combined Molly Weasley's cooking with Honeydukes'. Treacle tart with golden- brown crust...swollen cream puffs with strawberries...chocolate biscuits fresh from the oven... pretzel wands dipped in more chocolate and crushed peanuts... the flaky layers of the croissants with dusted sugar...the various pastel-colored hues of macrons...pastry dough braided with sweet cheeses...

This was easily the best version of the Daydream Charm so far, and there was no way it could end in disaster. Harry reached for the platter of free samples of ginger spice cake at the same time as someone else.

And there was Ginny. Her hair was piled on top of her head, her sunglasses balanced high on her forehead. Like him, she was dressed in Muggle clothes, and Harry swore he heard the music rising in the background as their eyes met. "Feel like sharing?" She broke her slice in two and offered him a piece.

"Only with you, stranger," Harry said with a grin. Maybe this could be the fantasy where nothing went wrong. He sincerely hoped so because he was on the verge of begging.

Ginny licked some of the icings off her fingers. She winked.

The music became louder and turned into a crescendo as Ginny stepped closer—and were those doves looking at them from outside the window?

He blinked. The doves stared back. One ominously pecked at the window. The music changed.

Ginny cursed.

**vi. The Clownfish Surprise**

An annoyed woman waited by the bar. Her black hair was twisted into a messy plait, her glasses sat crooked on her nose, her mouth set in a wry smile as she drummed her fingers against the table. A drink was placed before her. She followed the direction the bartender pointed to, and she raised an eyebrow at the handsome man who waved at her.

"What's a witch like you sitting alone?" he asked as he took the seat next to her. His drink was a violent shade of fuchsia with a matching paper umbrella. His shoulder knocked against hers, and the back of his hand brushed against hers.

She tried to say his name, but the sugary taste of the Daydream Charm twisted the word into a cough. He watched with some amusement.

"I'm plotting to kill your brothers," she amended. She raised her thimble of whiskey and considered what other terrible pickup lines he had ready. She sipped. "It's the least I can do for my missing bollocks."

"You didn't draw the line at the Kraken," he said as he counted off his fingers, "Filch with his damn cat, pitchfork-bearing villagers, angry birds, a wannabe Voldemort." He speared a floating cherry in his drink with a paper umbrella. "But this, really?"

"He wasn't even snake-like!" she complained. Daydream charms shouldn't be this stressful, but then again, the only supplier was George and Ron. Even though she had bought them under a fake name, her future in-laws had clearly proven their hand several times. Maybe she should start reading those product warnings more often and stop buying from whatever was in the discount bin.

Clownfish. She'd assume it would be an aquarium-based fantasy. Maybe another one involving mermaids.

The Daydream Charm was telling her to flirt. To flutter her eyelashes and laugh along at the terrible pickup lines and lead the handsome stranger to a room upstairs, but she was now adept at ignoring the magic. After all, why flirt when she could scowl and plan her needed vengeance?

"If it helps, your arse still looks fantastic in those jeans." He gave her backside an admired glance. "They'll look even better on the floor."

She set her glass down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She knew for a fact there weren't going to be any Dementors hovering nearby, swarms of reporters, or any other drastic introductions ruining the mood, but that didn't stop her from being wary as she checked over her shoulders. Please, don't let anything ruin this, she silently begged.

He nudged her ankle, distracting her. "You know, you can save a broom by riding a Quidditch player."

"You're too smug about this. You should put your mouth to better use." She leaned forward to close the space between them. Her mouth hovered over his.

"Any ideas?" His thigh pressed against hers. His mouth skimmed her jaw. The contact sent a jolt of surety through her at how her body knew his by touch alone. No matter how the Daydream Charm changed their appearances and their surroundings, Harry would always be drawn to Ginny.

She had a few ideas about what to do next.

**vii...**

Ginny reached for the box, but Harry distracted her.

The reality was always better than fantasy.

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***Do not take the Patented Daydream Charm if you are currently taking fluxweed in your potions or if you have any reactions to moonrise-picked St. John's Wart. Do not take if you have ever experienced any problems regarding water, heights, birds, blood, dogs, dysphoria, or a general sense of vague unease. Please stop using the Patented Daydream Charm if you are experiencing excessive drooling when awake or waking nightmares involving clownfish. Not advised to be taken if you've wronged us in any way or if bought from the discount bin.**

****All similarities to any person, living or dead, is a complete coincidence because someone didn't want to sign a waiver to sell anything based on his likeness.**


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